


Upon Heaped Rubble and Steam

by plumtrees



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe – Mafia, Blood, Gen, Gore, Guns, Sunshine Mafia, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 05:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7300549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumtrees/pseuds/plumtrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Armed intruder just passed camera 3 in the east wing corridor!”</p>
  <p>“How many?”</p>
  <p>“One.” Just then, two other similarly dressed figures follow suit, both also carrying assault rifles. “Wait! Thr—”</p>
  <p>The number shrivels up in his throat. More of them swoop in, like a murder of crows going in for the kill. Even under the shock, Goshiki’s eyes scan the stampede, lips working in a soundless, hurried headcount.</p>
  <p>“Goshiki!”</p>
  <p>Goshiki looks up from the console. “Thirty-four.” he says, and his voice trembles at the last syllable, his brain finally catching up to the severity of the situation.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	1. Like a Murder of Crows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kim_quim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kim_quim/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIM! ❤ ❤ ❤ 
> 
> First of all I’d like to apologize that this took so long. Second, I’d like to invite you all to go check out Sunshine Mafia! It’s currently my favorite webcomic, and I am absolutely in love with Kim’s style. What drew me to it (Aside from my obvious bias towards Shiratorizawa and baby!Shouyou) was her interesting take on the premise. It’s like mafia!AU turned on its head, focusing on a completely different side of what is usually an action-packed/intense universe while not letting the reader forget that there _is_ a darker side to the story. The dichotomy is super interesting and it always leaves me eager to see how she’ll progress with this universe.
> 
> This is just a tribute on Kim’s amazing work, and I had to take some liberties for the sake of the story so please note that none of this is canon to the Sunshine Mafia-verse. I really hope I did your creation justice! Again, happy birthday!
> 
> Plus: You’re not really gonna get what’s going on unless you read the comic, so I suggest you scurry over there first :3

In this line of work, it pays to acknowledge fear, to listen to it. Goshiki can count exactly sixteen near-death experiences that were curbed only by his paranoia and constant vigilance. Where he is right now, the fact that he’s even still _breathing_ , he owes to his instincts.

They’re also the reasons he lands himself a rather fitting position in the Security Department. It’s not the most exciting job. No one is smart (or stupid, depends on how you look at it, really) enough to challenge one of the strongest Families in the business, and while the fact remains that they have a lot of enemies, there are not many who have the guts or resources to infiltrate the main house. The scuffles mostly come up elsewhere, minor establishments under their control. The worst that Goshiki’s ever witnessed on CCTV watch in the main house is Semi and Tendou sucking face in what they probably thought was a blind spot in the fifth floor corridor.

(At least Goshiki _wants_ to believe that’s the case. Knowing Tendou though, it’s quite likely that he just doesn’t care if anyone sees.

Shirabu said something once about Tendou actually _preferring_ it. Goshiki had veered away from that train of thought before any further damage could be done.)

Still, the job brings its own little rewards. Semi had told him once that it wasn’t something just anybody could do. Watching the same screens for three hours is pretty much akin to watching paint dry, and a lot of people tend to half-ass CCTV duty. Goshiki has it down to a fine art: always on constant alert, watching every camera and sensor like a hawk for the entirety of his shift. The only time he doesn’t have his eyes on the monitor is when he’s blinking.

It’s a Friday. As usual he’s on watch duty for the east wing of the first floor and the fifth. It’s his favorite assignment. The fifth floor housed the sleeping quarters of the Family’s heads, and it’s always fun to witness how much messier Tendou’s room is now compared to last week, how well Reon’s plants are growing, how white and immaculately clean Shirabu’s room still is.

 _How does he even find time to clean?_ Goshiki thinks as he sweats nervously at the state of his own room. Most of the time the camera in Ushijima’s personal quarters is disabled, but it’s not today and he’s treated to the sight of Ushijima reading a book by the fireplace.

He does a cursory scan on all the other rooms, and it’s only when he’s confident that all is well does he return to the small screen showing Shouyou’s room. The blinking _21:05:46_ on the display tells him that he’d just missed witnessing Shouyou’s goodnight kiss to the CCTV. It’s always how he says goodnight to him and Shirabu on Friday nights, when they can’t see him because right after cram school is their shift.

 _Oh well,_ he thinks as he smiles at Shouyou’s peacefully sleeping figure, mindlessly reaching for the chipped rim of the hand-painted mug sitting by his keyboard. _Can always just rewind the footage later._

He lingers just a few seconds more before switching back to the first floor CCTVs.

The footage of the kitchen CCTV flickers oddly for barely a second before stabilizing. He squints at it and brings it up to full screen.

 _21:04:50_ the time display says.

He slams a hand on the alarm a split second before the explosion sends him crashing to the floor.

 

-

 

He groans, holding a hand to his head to clear the ringing. All around him monitors fizz to static before powering up again, others dying out with a final hiss. The alarms are blaring and he scrambles to stand, looking over each of the screens on his station to find the source.

“Status!” Semi demands from his perch on the balcony. Reports are being shouted left and right and Goshiki does his best to filter the information accordingly, noting what’s already been said.

There’s a giant blind spot in the first floor, the very end of the east wing. Ten cameras in the kitchen, dining rooms, and the major hallways leading to them are dead. Goshiki quickly zeros in on the only working cameras closest to the site of attack.

A black-clad figure darts past one of the screens. Goshiki doesn’t need to rewind the footage to know exactly what he was holding.

“Armed intruder just passed camera 3 in the east wing corridor!” 

“How many?”

“One.” Just then, two other similarly dressed figures follow suit, both also carrying assault rifles. “Wait! Thr—”

The number shrivels up in his throat. More of them swoop in, like a murder of crows going in for the kill. Even under the shock, Goshiki’s eyes scan the stampede, lips working in a soundless, hurried headcount.

“Goshiki!”

Goshiki looks up from the console. “Thirty-four.” he says, and his voice trembles at the last syllable, his brain finally catching up to the severity of the situation.

Semi spits a curse, finger coming up to activate his earpiece as he vaults over the railings. Shirabu is already at the head of the console, eerily silent and composed as his fingers fly across the controls.

Suddenly, one of the auxiliary cameras in the kitchen comes to life. Goshiki’s jaw nearly falls from its hinges when he sees the entire wall is just _gone_ , its remains scattered all over the floor in fine dust and rubble. He can only imagine the damage that lies past the camera’s range.

Shirabu’s voice echoes throughout the mansion, sending an encrypted announcement over the PA system. _Under attack. 34 armed trespassers spotted first floor east wing. Detonation site: kitchen. Defense units report to Tendou-san immediately._

His skin crawls with the need to do _something_. He tries to follow Semi when he rushes past but he’s too busy shouting instructions through his earpiece. He doesn’t pay attention when he stumbles back to his post and springs back when something cracks beneath his foot. 

He’s staring down the shattered remains of a ceramic mug, the characters for _Goshiki_ just barely legible in the inked fragments, written in childish calligraphy. His heart jumps to his throat.

He quickly whips around, switching to the fifth floor cameras and zeroing in on Shouyou’s room. His nightlight spreads a blue glow around his terrified face, peeking beneath his blanket.

“Semi-san! Semi-san, Shouyou—”

The second he mentions the name, hands clutch his shoulders in a bruising grip. Semi’s whipped around to face him, eyes wide, terrifyingly pale. Goshiki scrambles to explain.

“He’s fine! He’s in his room!” he gestures at the screen. Shouyou’s disappeared beneath his blanket, a curled-up lump in the sheets. Semi’s lips thin out into a faint line. Goshiki can practically hear the gears in his head turning as he sifts through outcomes and possibilities, struggling to come to a decision.

Suddenly, his face sets in determination. Hands fall from his shoulders to grab something from his belt, hurriedly fitting it over Goshiki’s face. He flinches when the rubber drags over his hair and when he opens his eyes, the world is tinted green.

“Tendou will meet you in the library. Get Shouyou and get him to the garage.” Semi instructs, tone clipped. He grabs Goshiki’s face as soon as the goggles are secured. “No matter what happens _stay with him_.”

Goshiki can only nod.

 

-

 

He runs out of the surveillance room into total darkness. The goggles automatically turn on after detecting the absence of light, vivid green silhouettes crawling into his vision. The windows have been barricaded, no sign of electricity save for the blinking lights of the cameras on the ceiling. He praises Shirabu’s quick thinking, but the ever-pragmatic side of him figures it won’t do much if the trespassers came in with some means of night vision too.

He quickly makes his way to the main stairs, flinching at the sound of gunfire from a few floors below. He scurries down the hall until he reaches the ornate double doors leading to the library. Slowly, he pushes open the door but as soon as his foot steps into the marble-tiled floor, a lightning-quick hand grabs his wrist and the next thing he knows, he’s pressed up against the wall, a throbbing pain in his chin. Multiple, mechanical clicks fill the silence, and he’s suddenly very aware of all the muzzles trained on him, ready to shoot.

“It’s Goshiki!” he declares, fighting his body’s instinctive urge to break free. 

Whoever’s holding him clicks their tongue. There is a soft shuffle of movement before he’s roughly pulled off the wall.

“What are you doing running around without a weapon out, kid?”

Tendou. There’s blood seeping from a cut on his cheek. Seeing blood staining Tendou’s skin was nothing strange, but never has it been his own.

“One of them was a pretty good shot. He won’t be shooting anytime soon though.”

Goshiki jumps at being caught staring. He meekly lowers his eyes to the ring on Tendou’s index finger, tethered to a spool on his waist by a line of razor wire, fresh blood and chunks of sinew dripping from its shimmering blades. This is the first time he’s this close to Tendou so soon after a fight, but he knows from the stories that he doesn’t kill with Reon’s efficiency or with Semi’s finesse. He likes them bloody, wants every inch of his hands and blades drenched with red. He only has one gun on him: a sleek, small Beretta from Semi, but it’s almost always left untouched.

Except now he’s reaching for it. The air shrieks as his razor wire slithers back into its coil, the ring clicking into its slot parallel to the ominous _snap_ of the gun’s hammer.

Tendou jerks his head at his team and they scatter, most bearing riot shields with them. The doors close and Goshiki catches the roll and click of several locks sliding into place.

“Shouyou?” Tendou’s already walking before Goshiki can reply.

“In his room.” Goshiki replies uselessly, hurrying after him. “Last I checked there are no other intruders besides the ones on the first floor.”

Tendou grunts, stops in front of a shelf built into the wall, stacked with identical books, all thick and leather-bound with nothing but roman numerals engraved on their spines differentiating them from each other. Tendou reaches for the one labeled _V_ and presses his thumb over the number. 

Goshiki carefully retreats when the shelf shudders and sinks to the ground to reveal the emergency elevator. The doors slide open, almost temporarily blinding Goshiki with the glaring white lights of its interior. Tendou pushes him inside. There are no buttons or screens or even any cameras, just six blank panels.

There’s no time for idle chatter. Goshiki feels the subtle weight of gravity pushing him down as the elevator speeds up, then shudders to a stop barely a heartbeat later, the doors parting at the middle to reveal the dim interior of their boss’ personal quarters. He squashes down the intrigue, resists the urge to take in as much details as he can and focuses instead on searching for their boss.

Ushijima isn’t here.

He doesn’t have time to let the dread settle in, to consider the possible reasons why their boss isn’t in his room when he just saw him here through the surveillance cameras just barely ten minutes ago, because Tendou’s already rushing out of the room.

“Tendou-san, wait!” he hisses. He unholsters his gun and slinks against the wall opposite Tendou as soon as he steps out into the hallway.

“Kid, if you’re hoping to be a head, you’re not allowed to be this slow.” Tendou snaps, irritation weaving a strange accent into his voice. “We just got infiltrated. Is Wakatoshi just gonna sit his ass on a swivel chair and look menacing? _Think_. What’s the first thing he’d do?”

Goshiki’s almost ashamed to admit that he’s not really aware of Ushijima’s protocol for situations like this, but he’d seen the schematics for Ushijima’s quarters, knows that it practically doubles as a safe room: four-inch concrete on all sides, tungsten-steel alloys strong enough to withstand a nuclear blast, and five deadbolts on the main door. In the event of an attack, perhaps the most logical thing for Ushijima to do would be to stay put.

But now, something was so important that Ushijima left his room, possibly the safest and most fortified room in the entire house, to go find it.

It clicks just a little too late. Goshiki feels panic welling up twice as fast in his chest when he realizes Tendou’s stopped in his tracks, the point of a gun trained between his eyes.

His gun is aimed at the attacker in less than a second, but Tendou’s hand suddenly snaps around his wrist, forcing it down.

“Wakatoshi.” Tendou warns, voice level, and it’s only then that Goshiki properly takes the attacker’s features into account, nearly sagging in relief when he recognizes their boss behind the bulk of the night vision goggles. He’s carrying a shapeless bundle in his free arm and it squirms subtly. 

“Shouyou?” Goshiki hazards.

Shouyou’s head pops out from the awkward wrap, chin tucked over the head of a stuffed toy. His eyes, normally so bright and full of excitement, are wide with fear. Ushijima quickly pulls the fabric back over his head, whispering as he does. 

Goshiki wants to look away, knows that this is a moment he’s not privy to, but the burning fascination is too strong. His low voice, once toneless and dry and booming with authority, is soft and gentle as it forms around words aiming to reassure his son. His eyes watch Ushijima’s large hand tighten over Shouyou’s head. Has he always been this small? How old is he again? Goshiki can’t remember, but he’s far too young, far too vulnerable to be here. 

It’s something he’s always known but the reality of everything has never hit him as hard as it has today.

Tendou is similarly frozen beside him, but his head whips back to the silent hallway, to the unseen dangers that lurk just a few floors down and suddenly he’s beside Ushijima, urgently tugging his arm.

“Save it for later, boss.” Tendou hisses. “We gotta go.”

“Tendou-nii?” Shouyou squeaks, voice muffled in Ushijima’s shirt. “Tendou-nii what’s happening?”

Tendou only reaches out to pat Shouyou’s hair, and Goshiki’s only glad that his poor attempt at a reassuring smile is invisible to Shouyou in the dark. He quickly leads them out and Goshiki takes his place in the rear, pulling out his gun and jogging backwards, on high alert for even the slightest sign of movement in the green-lit hallway.

They make it back to Ushijima’s office and Tendou’s holding the elevator door open with his palm on the sensor. Goshiki closes Ushijima’s office door behind him, the complicated lock mechanism whirring as the bolts slide into place.

Goshiki rips off the goggles, blinking to adjust to the dimly-lit room. He keeps his arms steady and trained on the knob. He knows what will happen from here: Ushijima and Shouyou will take the elevator. Tendou will come with them. He’ll stay here until the coast is clear—

Someone calls his name and he turns to look. All of a sudden, a weight pitches into his arms, orange flooding his vision. 

He nearly drops his gun— _and Shouyou_ —in shock.

Goshiki looks up at Ushijima, a protest at the ready, but he’s locked in a hushed but heated exchange with Tendou. It makes him nervous. He strains his ears and catches snippets of _I’m the target_ and _get him out of here_ but still doesn’t completely know what’s going on and the paranoia seeping into the gaps of ignorance makes everything so much worse.

“Goshi-nii—” Shouyou starts, only to shriek, burying his face in Goshiki’s chest when a round of gunfire pierces the air and _shit, is it getting closer?_

“Shit.” Apparently Tendou thought so too. 

“Get in!” Ushijima barks, and Goshiki’s in the elevator before it even fully registers. He looks back and realizes that Ushijima and Tendou didn’t follow him in, that the doors are sliding shut.

Shouyou’s squirming in his hold, shouting and reaching out his tiny arms out for his father, and keeping him still is all Goshiki can do. Ushijima’s eyes are trained on his son, something unreadable in his expression, and with just barely seconds to spare, he meets Goshiki’s eyes.

“Keep him safe.” is all Ushijima says before the doors close in on him.

 

-

 

Semi and Reon have their guns trained on them the second the doors open, but quickly lowers them at the sight of Shouyou. Three black vans are all lined up behind them: perfectly identical with tinted and bulletproof windows. Goshiki can feel Shouyou shaking in his arms, whimpering under his breath but before he can say anything, Reon opens the door of the closest one and gestures him into the back, Semi already rushing to the driver’s seat.

Goshiki immediately shuffles to the back of the van, blinking quickly to adjust to the sudden darkness when Reon slides the door shut. It slams far too loud. Shouyou tightens his grip on the dog plush squished between them.

“It’s gonna be okay, Shouyou.” Goshiki mumbles, even as he sinks low over the seats until his head is well below the windows. He doesn’t trust that bulletproof label one bit.

“Goshi-nii, where’s Papa?” his voice cracks at the last word.

“He’ll be fine.” Goshiki says, with as much conviction as he can. “He’s with Tendou-san and the others. They won’t let anything happen to him.”

Goshiki hears the unmistakable _click_ of a magazine locking into a handgun. Shouyou’s tremors get worse. Or maybe it’s him.

“They’re just taking a different van.” Goshiki insists, tucking Shouyou’s head against his shoulder in a bid for comfort. “You’ll be seeing them soon, Shouyou, I promise.”

Reon is whispering into a walkie-talkie. All their phones are off. They can’t take any chances. Shirabu’s cool voice comes up with an update on the situation. Whoever is responsible for this was good enough to storm their main base and get as far as the third floor.

 _Shouyou’s room was on the fifth._ his mind hisses and his arms instinctively tighten around Shouyou.

They’ve been compromised. They’ll have to abandon everything. It’s confirmed when Shirabu’s voice rises above the static. He’s wiped all the computers. The bombs are armed. They have three minutes to evacuate.

Semi starts the engine the second the transmission is cut. A strip of the floor sinks, transforming into a ramp to the underground tunnel. They’ve never had to use this emergency exit before.

“Where are we going?” Shouyou asks, just barely soft enough to be heard even with how close he is. Goshiki doesn’t know, but he knows that’s not the answer Shouyou needs right now.

“Somewhere safe.”

He wants so badly to believe it too, but he isn’t even sure he’ll ever be able to trust that word again. Not when their stronghold, their home, the one place they’d all believed they’d be safe, will most likely just be a pile of rubble in the next five minutes.

Semi lowers them into the tunnel and the minimal lighting and the tinted windows only compound the darkness. Goshiki’s eyes go into overdrive. There’s nothing in the narrow tunnel but concrete-lined walls, the occasional purple tube light. He sneaks a look at the rear window and finds nothing, no flash of light bouncing off a chrome hood, no headlights following them. The only things he can hear are Shouyou’s heavy breathing and the soft hum of the engine.

“Goshiki!”

Semi’s voice tears through him like an electric shock, jerking his mind back into his body. Shouyou’s small hand is tugging at his sweater.

“Yes?” he answers shakily. How long have they been trying to get his attention?

“If you hear anything unusual, or if the van suddenly stops, I want you to get behind the seats.” Reon instructs. He’s still hunched over something beyond Goshiki’s line of sight, but the smell of gun oil is potent in the enclosed space.

“Semi and I will engage the threat first, but if something happens to us, I want you to escape through the back door.”

An insidious thought tells him that if they happen to be good enough to get past Reon and Semi then they’re smart enough to anticipate someone escaping through the rear, waiting to grab them as soon as he opens the door.

Well, _grab_ might be too nice of a way to put it.

He hasn’t even realized his hold on Shouyou tightening until he whines in protest, squirming softly. He loosens his grip with a soft apology, swallowing down the growing lump in his throat. 

His belt is lighter without the pistol, but another, lesser-used weapon rests at his right hip. He reaches for it, hooks his finger beneath the lip of the pouch.

“Shouyou.”

Shouyou makes a confused sound as he looks up at him. He holds out the weapon and Shouyou nearly jumps back at the sudden touch of the stun gun’s plastic casing.

“This isn’t a toy so you have to be very careful not to hurt yourself with it.” he reminds gently, softly, the same way he has in all those self-defense lessons he and Tendou kept secret from the rest of the Family, but his voice carries all throughout the van. Reon angles his head to see what’s happening and, though his lips set in a disapproving line, says nothing. 

“You still remember how to use it?”

Shouyou’s hands wring around the fur of his toy. Goshiki lets him test the weight of it in his hands, turning it here and there until his thumb finds the button on the side. The strip of electricity crackles loud between the prongs, the unnatural blue glow reflecting an eerie light in Shouyou’s eyes.

A stray thought passes: _Ah, there’s the family resemblance_.

“You still remember the places Tendou-san told you to aim for?” 

“Shoulder?” Shouyou tries uncertainly, eyes zeroing in on the area hidden just beneath Goshiki’s shirt collar, the sensitive curve below the neck that flares out to the shoulders.

“Good.” he murmurs, struggling to suppress the misplaced pride welling up in his chest. “And if you can’t reach?”

A brief flash of a pout crosses Shouyou’s face at the unintentional jab at his height. Goshiki allows himself a smile at the glimpse of normalcy. Shouyou points below his ribcage, then a little lower, just above his hip and Goshiki nods in approval.

He looks up and meets Semi’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Reon’s head is angled only just enough to look at him from the corner of his vision.

They will do everything it takes to make sure Shouyou never has to use it.


	2. When You Wake at Dawn

The van slows to a stop and the tension returns to Goshiki’s limbs. Shouyou scrambles to a sitting position but Reon turns in his seat to face them.

“It’s alright. We’re just waiting for the gate to open.”

Just as he says it, the wall in front of them shudders with a low creak, slowly lifting up to reveal a dilapidated warehouse, walls streaked with rust. The van rolls out once the gate rises high enough and drives out to the main road, the rain hammering over the roof of the car as soon as they’re out in the open.

It’s worse now that they’re back on the surface. Thunder rumbles. Fat drops smack against the window and distort the view of the outside. The shadows of dancing trees and Goshiki’s overactive imagination conjure up senseless shapes in the edges of his vision. Goshiki keeps his hand tight on Shouyou’s waist, tucking him against his side.

He isn’t sure how long they’ve been driving, too focused on squinting past the fogged-up windows to keep track of the time, but Semi suddenly slows down, makes a left turn and instead of buildings and trees, Goshiki sees rows of cars outside the window. They’re in a parking lot. 

Semi slowly backs them into a free space. Goshiki’s head tosses left and right, peering inside the seemingly empty vehicles beside them. Semi pulls the key from the ignition, the car’s engine dying as he tosses them over to Reon.

“Stay inside until I come back.”

He steps out of the car and the door locks with a soft chirp. There’s not much of the building they’ve parked in front of that Goshiki can see. Semi’s walking toward the stairs, coat hiked up above his head as meager protection from the rain.

He raises his gun again, conscious of how Shouyou looks at it. It’s still a foreign weight in his hands, far too clean and still gleaming with polish. He hasn’t used it in a while. His finger hooks into the trigger and tests the weight of the give, anxiously flexing his fingers with every fifteen seconds that pass. 

Exactly three minutes and forty-eight seconds later, they hear the shuffle of pebbles and he and Reon straighten. Semi’s rushing back to the car, huddled beneath a black umbrella and looking markedly more relaxed than when he left. He walks straight to the side door and taps at the window with the hand holding the umbrella. Goshiki knows the other is in his coat pocket, curled around the handle of a pistol.

“All clear.” he announces, but Goshiki’s grip on his own gun doesn’t loosen until Reon opens the door.

The streetlamps outside are painfully bright even behind a dense curtain of rain. He carries Shouyou out of the van, Reon and Semi flanking him as they walk towards the stairs. Semi taps his arm thrice then swipes twice— _Third floor_ —swipes once, taps thrice— _Apartment B_.

He navigates through the hallway until he finds the door with a plastic _B_ nailed above the doorbell. Semi is the one that reaches for the button, pressing thrice in quick succession.

The door opens. Suddenly he finds himself face-to-face with—

“Suga-san?” Shouyou whispers.

 

-

 

By force of habit, Goshiki inspects every corner of the apartment, catalogues every point of entry and exit, maps out escape routes for every room. Semi’s twin— _and wow that wasn’t a revelation he thinks he will ever be prepared for_ —doesn’t comment on it, maybe because he’s still locked in his bedroom and a very loud argument.

“—a _child_ , Semi! Where do you get off on dragging innocent people into this kind of life?!”

Goshiki flinches, steps back from the door and continues on his way to the kitchen. There’s a window in front of the sink. He twists the lever to lock it, then checks all the cabinets, the creaks of unoiled hinges echoing throughout the room.

Once he’s checked over every centimeter of the apartment (well, save the master bedroom, for obvious reasons) he finally allows himself to slump onto the couch, letting his body eat through the excess energy. He can already feel the oncoming crash. The sudden stress plus the ebb and spike of adrenaline is something he isn’t quite used to yet.

“Goshi-nii.”

He almost flies off the couch in his shock, but his brain is lucid enough to recognize the bright tuft of orange hair and stops him just in time. He sighs roughly and slumps back into the plush seats.

“Shouyou, don’t _do_ that.” he groans, probably rougher than he intended. Shouyou’s face crumples and he feels bad instantly. Before he can apologize, small hands press a drink into his hands. It’s warm and steaming and the color vaguely identifies it as some form of tea.

“Reon-nii says to drink it.”

Goshiki’s lips twitch in a dry smile. “Me or you?”

Shouyou’s face pinks in embarrassment at being caught.

“You have to drink it Shouyou. It’ll help.” Goshiki explains patiently, pushing the mug up to Shouyou’s lips.

“It tastes really bad, Goshi-nii.” he insists, violently shuddering and sticking out his tongue.

Goshiki turns to the dining area and Reon has his back turned, stacking cups onto a tray. He playfully presses a finger to his lips and Shouyou nods eagerly, hands coming up to close over his mouth.

Goshiki makes a face at the first sip. It’s bitter, thick with honey that doesn’t help soothe the awful aftertaste. He leaves about two mouthfuls for Shouyou to finish, insists despite the puppy-face he pulls on him, because he’s still a little worryingly pale and the tea really is helping. Goshiki can already feel calm sweeping over him, hyped-up nerves relaxing, limbs weighing heavier onto the give of the sofa.

Reon walks back in the living room in time to see Shouyou to swallow down the last of it.

 _Any news?_ he mouths, careful not to let Shouyou see. Reon’s eyes briefly dart to Shouyou before shaking his head. Goshiki gnaws the inside of his cheek anxiously.

Reon clears his throat, catching Shouyou’s attention. “Do you want me to make you something to eat, Shouyou?”

“I’ll do it.” Goshiki quickly volunteers. “You should rest, Reon-san.”

Reon seems ready to protest, but just then, a voice identical to Semi’s—but still so very distinctly _not_ his, because Semi would never raise his voice like that—echoes past the bedroom door.

“I’ll…go see Semi.” he finishes weakly. Goshiki silently wishes him luck.

Goshiki carries Shouyou to the kitchen and sits him on the counter beside the sink, trying to recall which of the cabinets housed the prepackaged snacks.

He reaches for the handle of the nearest one. Or tries to. He frowns, staring down at the arm that stayed motionless at his side. Experimentally, he opens and closes his hand, but his fingers only curl inward slightly. The air seems thicker around him, forcing his body to move slower than normal.

Reon must have put something in the tea. A relaxant of sorts. It was meant for Shouyou after all. He glances at the child but he doesn’t seem as affected, only lazily swinging his legs as he yawns and scrubs his eyes.

 _Cute_ Goshiki’s slurred brain coos. He blinks slowly and looks around the small kitchen. What was he here for agai—

Glass rains against the side of his face. He stumbles back when something hard slams against his side, pain erupting below his ribs. Instinctively he grabs the attacker’s ankle, trying to anchor his spinning vision. The limb falls from his weakened fingers and delivers another kick to his head and the ringing worsens tenfold, the blurs melting into puddles of color. Black. _Orange_.

Blue?

It sparks bright in his vision. Almost white. The hiss and crackle of electricity fills his ears. Screams. Footsteps echo through the floor. A crunch. A groan. Muffled thuds. The tightening snap of handcuffs. Background noise. Hands press over his side and pain flares up again. _Are you hurt are you hurt Shouyou_ Look _at me are you hurt_ —

His vision fragments. Shouyou is shaking his head frantically and Semi’s kneeling in front of him but that can’t be because Semi is also straddling the attacker, forcing his head against the floor. Reon’s face hovers over the corner of his eyes. 

There’s blood on Shouyou’s hands.

 

-

 

Goshiki doesn’t register anything. He barely feels it when Semi’s twin tugs back his polo to poke around the ugly bruise rising to the surface. He watches shadows and silhouettes move around him and moves only when he’s asked. The lethargy from the tea is gone, replaced by an odd numbness that eats at him. It’s like he’s outside of his body, watching it operate on autopilot.

Time passes by unnoticed. He straightens—a blanket slips off his shoulder and he doesn’t even remember where he got it—when Semi enters the room with far more people than he remembers should be in the house. Shouyou scrambles off of Reon’s lap with an ecstatic cry of _Papa!_ and Goshiki’s tattered mind pulls itself back together. They’re here. They’re back. They’re _safe_.

There’s a bustle of activity once everyone is reunited, but not one Goshiki allows himself to be part of. He retreats against the far end of the couch and curls in on himself, ignores Kawanishi’s curious glance as he passes. Semi’s talking with Yamagata and Tendou in the farther corner of the living room. Tendou’s eyes wander over to him every now and then but Goshiki lowers his head until his bangs completely obscure his vision.

Ushijima and Tendou are immediately led to the prisoner, being watched by Reon in the master bedroom. Ushijima doesn’t even spare him a glance.

The guilt continues to devour him from the inside.

 

-

 

A weight carelessly slams against his injured side and he wakes with a yelp. He sits up, heart hammering, hands groping for a weapon—

He looks down at the weight restricting his breathing, only to see a shock of orange hair.

“Shouyou.” he breathes, and it comes out more like a sigh of relief.

The alarm returns when he realizes that Shouyou is shivering, that there’s a quickly-spreading dampness where his face is pressed up against his shirt.

“Shouyou?” he tries to coax him off, but his hands are fisted tightly in his shirt and he whines when Goshiki tries to pull him away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nightmare.” Shirabu answers and Goshiki looks up at him, backlit by the triangle of light from the guestroom. “He woke up crying and just kept asking for you.”

Goshiki feels his chest constrict for a completely different reason this time. He looks down at Shouyou, who had only curled up tighter over him. “Did you have a bad dream, Shouyou?”

“I…” he starts, hiccups, “I dreamt that Goshi-nii…”

He trails off into a choked sob, and it’s a sound Goshiki never wants to hear from Shouyou ever again. He holds him close, rubs soothing circles over his back.

“I’m okay, Shouyou.” he whispers, “I’m okay. You saved me, remember?”

Shouyou’s sobs still don’t wane. Goshiki carefully readjusts him in his arms and stands, walking past Shirabu to carry him back to his bed.

It takes a while but the sobs soon taper off into sniffles. Shouyou refuses to let go of his hand, clutching it in lieu of his stuffed dog. Goshiki carefully wipes the remnants of his tears away with his sleeve, feels stretched thin and weighed down. Shouyou should never have had to go through any of this, should never have had to cry for _him_ of all people.

“I’m sorry.” slips out before he can smother it. Shouyou stares at him, confused.

“I was supposed to protect you.” Goshiki continues, cracks spiderwebbing over the dam holding his emotions in place. “I was supposed to protect you and I failed.”

“But I didn’t get hurt. Goshi-nii did.” 

“Getting hurt is part of the job, if it means you and Ushijima-san are ok.”

Shouyou’s eyebrows meet sharply. His hold on Goshiki’s hand tightens.

“We’re family, right Goshi-nii?”

Goshiki blinks in surprise. “Right.”

“Papa said that a family is supposed to protect each other.” 

His eyes are oddly knowing, clear despite the layer of fatigue and far too cognizant than any child’s eyes are allowed be. From the corner of his vision, Shirabu quirks a rare smile.

“I want to protect Goshi-nii too.” Shouyou murmurs, the fight seeping out of him with every slow exhale. “And Shirabu-nii and Kawa-nii and Reon-nii and…” he yawns and trails off, still mouthing names even as his leaden eyelids slip shut.

Goshiki reaches up and sweeps his thumb over the sleeping child’s forehead, pushing back his hair and smoothing the tangles with his fingers until Shouyou’s breath completely evens out into the rhythm of sleep. He watches his chest rise and fall with every breath, wishes he could wrap him in cotton and take him away from all this, wishes that the entirety of the night is just nothing but one of his more vivid nightmares.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later.” 

He glances to his side. Shirabu is eyeing Shouyou thoughtfully, arms wound around his legs.

“If not tonight, then the next time we get attacked. You can only live a lie for so long before reality starts to catch up with you.”

“He never lied—” 

“Lying by omission still counts.” Shirabu snaps, fingers slipping beneath lopsided bangs to rub soothing lines over his forehead. “You didn’t think it would work out either, didn’t you? That’s why you gave the kid self-defense lessons behind Ushijima-san’s back.”

The denial dies on his tongue under Shirabu’s critical gaze. 

“I know Tendou-san was in on it too. That already makes us three out of eight.”

Goshiki’s eyes widen. Shirabu just pointedly turns away.

“And I’m pretty sure after tonight everyone will agree that we can’t just keep playing house with Shouyou forever. The more he knows about who we are, what we do, the easier it’ll be to keep him safe.”

Silence. Goshiki’s socked feet shuffle noiselessly against the wooden floors. Come tomorrow, Shouyou will wake up to a different life. It isn’t as if he’s completely ignorant—the little artwork he brought home from school once was proof of that—but they’d certainly have to tell him more: that the stories Tendou playfully narrated and acted out for him before bed were less fictional than they seemed, that the red stains they’d sometimes neglect to clean before coming home were not ketchup or paint or whatever stupid excuse they’d use up once the other two are scraped raw, that some nights after giving him his goodnight kiss his father would drive downtown to shoot a man in the head.

They’d have to tell him the truth.

The door opens with a creak and they both look up. Tendou’s characteristic silhouette passes through the door and leans against the frame. Even against the light, Goshiki can see the darker-than-usual shadows beneath his eyes. It’s always made him look menacing, but now he just looks tired.

“How’d the interrogation go?” Shirabu asks.

“Most productive one I’ve had in a while.” Tendou smirks, but it’s just a touch too bitter. “Wakatoshi wants a family meeting in the living room.” 

“Shouyou?”

“Semi’s brother will watch the kid.”

Shirabu raises an eyebrow. “After everything that’s happened, you’re leaving Shouyou alone with an outsider?”

“This room has no windows, and the only way to get to this room is to go through the living room. Plus, we’re in good faith that the perimeter is well-protected.”

The way Tendou said _good faith_ has Shirabu sneering. He hates it when they’re in Oikawa’s favor. Goshiki isn’t any happier about the thought, but after the harrowing evening, the prospect of even just an hour of sleep isn’t something he’s too eager to pass up.

Tendou’s hand wanders up to his face, scratches the checkered band-aid hiding his only battle scar of the night, or at least the only one Goshiki knows of. He wonders if he’s injured elsewhere, if anyone else got hurt, if everyone from the Family made it. The thought has him curling in on himself, bunching the fabric of his slacks in his fists.

“We all made mistakes today, but we’re all alive.” Tendou mutters and relief sinks into Goshiki’s bones, quickly replaced by a shot of terror when he sees how his senior’s eyes are menacingly wide, the sclera visible all around the dark of his irises. “We’re going to do everything it takes to make sure this never happens again.”

“And we’re gonna get our revenge, right?” Shirabu pipes up, brusque as ever. Tendou snorts.

“Get in line, brats.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I have an important announcement up on my [tumblr](http://plumtreeforest.tumblr.com/post/147049324011/important-announcement)


End file.
